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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28935081">visions of gideon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/requin_renard/pseuds/requin_renard'>requin_renard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tintin - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Blushing Gays, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Sort of a Love Triangle, haddock is flustered again, haddock likes tintin, milou is sick of these useless homos, tintin is gay panicking, tintin sort of liked tchang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 14:27:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,432</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28935081</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/requin_renard/pseuds/requin_renard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The news of Tchang’s engagement leads to some revelations. Tintin and Haddock realise they have infinitely more in common than they thought.</p><p>(sort of a love triangle; tintin liked tchang, haddock likes tintin, haddock n tintin are highkey mutual pining for each other. named after that good ol' angsty sufjan stevens song.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Archibald Haddock/Tintin, Tchang Tchong-Jen | Chang Chong-Chen/Tintin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>visions of gideon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>oop another first kiss fluff, this time with added coming out angst and an awkward-ish love triangle. i've recently been listening to the bbc radio adaptions where tintin is quite terse at times n also cracks rly goofy jokes so i tried to channel that characterisation.,.,</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gentle piano and strings leaked out from the crack in the door, the soft light leaving a line of gold across the hallway carpet. Haddock moved slowly, trying not to creak on the aged floorboards. He’d just come in from his evening stroll, the cool night air still fresh on his face. His young companion had not joined him tonight, which was not out of the ordinary. He’d mentioned something about having a deadline creeping upon him and excused himself to the library after supper, Milou quick at his heels. Haddock hadn’t minded; the need for solace he found on the open seas had never fully left him and his own company suited him just fine more often than not.</p><p><br/>It was a clear night, the world turning on the cusp of Spring. The blossoms were just starting to ease their way out of the ground and he felt very peaceful, as if all was right with the world. The moon sat high and gleaming above in the inky blackness, a silent observer.</p><p><br/>He paused, standing in the ray of light and looked into the room. Tintin was sat at the desk, feet neatly crossed, gazing out of the window. He had swapped his blue jumper for the cardigan he only wore whilst working or in the evenings which Haddock secretly thought made him look sweetly domestic.<br/>The boy rested his head lazily on his fist, elbow on the arm of the chair and stared outwards. The peaceful music washed around the room like a warm wave, spilling out over the man hidden in the hallway. Haddock smiled fondly, watching as the boy reached down to rub the ears of Milou at his feet, before resuming his pensive gaze.</p><p><br/>He was in two minds to interrupt the peaceful scene but his unusually good mood compelled him to. Besides, the boy would tell him if his company was unwelcome. He knocked very gently on the door and pushed it open, half coming into the room.<br/>“Ahoy, landlubber,” he said warmly. “Not working too hard, I hope?”<br/>The boy looked startled for a moment and snapped out of his daze. Then he offered a warm smile.<br/>“Oh, it’s you, Captain. Good evening,” he hastily turned back to the typewriter. “I’m afraid you’ve caught me in a moment of slacking.”<br/>“Oh, nonsense, you’ve been cooped up in here all evening, I’m sure you’ve done enough,” he walked over to the typewriter and peered over his shoulder. “Ah, just as I thought! Pages.”</p><p><br/>The boy laughed awkwardly and rubbed at his neck. He seemed very withdrawn and tense, and had done all evening, constantly fidgeting in his seat and staring thoughtfully out at the moon. Haddock hummed and stood looking out of the window for a moment, hands in his pockets.<br/>“Is there something on your mind, lad?” Haddock said very carefully and turned to him. “You seemed very lost in your thoughts before. And you were terribly quiet at the supper table.”<br/>Tintin fiddled with his hands in his lap for a moment.<br/>“Oh, I’m alright,” he said quickly. “I’m just a little tired, I think. I’ll be pleased to get this report sent to the editor and have it over with,” he gave the other a weary smile. “Don’t worry about me, Captain.” Haddock frowned, looking over at his face. The boy’s brows were drawn together again, introspection wrinkling his features. His lips were firmly pressed.</p><p>Haddock cleared his throat awkwardly. He stood, dithering for a moment, before he pulled up a chair opposite.</p><p>“I may be an old wretch, but….” he shifted in the chair. “I mean...” he was blustering again now. He wished he could get a grip of himself – he so often found it hard to get his intentions out these days. Especially when the boy was so uncharacteristically introverted. He felt as if he was over stepping a social boundary, but knew he wouldn’t sleep that night if he didn’t at least try to ease his worries. “You know you can… well I hope you know you can confide in me if something is bothering you. That is... if you wanted to.” He reached over and squeezed the other’s forearm hesitantly. Tintin gave him a wan smile and nodded. He sighed and leant forward resting his elbows on his knees, looking intently at a spot on the floor in front of him.</p><p><br/>“Oh, it’s nothing, really, I just...” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I received a letter today. From Tchang.”</p><p><br/>Haddock leaned forward too, looking agitated. “He’s alright, isn’t he?”</p><p><br/>Tintin nodded and coloured slightly. “No, no, Tchang is fine. Well, more than fine, actually. He’s engaged. Her name is Hua.”<br/>“Engaged, you say...”<br/>And suddenly it clicked.<br/>The devotedness of the young man in front of him to the Chinese boy. The way he had cried upon hearing of the plane crash. The way he had risked his life out there in the mountains, never even considering giving up. Braveheart, the monks had called him. Haddock felt a great weight settle in his stomach; how complicated things had become.</p><p><br/>Though he knew how entirely ridiculous it was, he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t feel jealousy deep down when Tintin had led them on that near fatal goose chase into the Himalayas. He wondered if the boy would have done the same for him; would he have careered head first into death to rescue him? It was supposed to be their holiday, a chance to rest and spend some time away from it all. And yet, as it always seem to do, trouble had followed Tintin like a dark cloud and plunged them back into daring escapades. He cared for Tchang, he really did, he liked the boy; he’d stayed at Moulinsart multiple times and they’d had good fun. But deep in the nastiest parts of himself he knew he resented Tchang for the way he redirected the boy’s attention. He hated himself for the envy he felt every time he saw them exchanging conspiratorial glances. He knew he was older, decades older, old enough to be a parent.<br/>But that couldn’t change the way he felt.</p><p>The light that self conscious smile brought into his life. The contentment that flooded through him when they sat together reading in the evenings, with nothing but the crackling fire and the purr of the Siamese cat curled on his lap filling their companionable silence. It pained him to have this conversation, but he cared more about the clearly troubled young man in front of him than his own feelings. He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair.<br/>“Do you love him?” he asked suddenly. Tintin flushed darker and furrowed his brow. He did not move.<br/>“I’m not sure,” he said quietly. “Maybe I did, once. It’s difficult now.” he reached to run his fingers through Milou’s white fur.</p><p><br/>“Tintin,” Haddock said in a very low voice. “It’s alright, I promise,” he reached to take the boy’s hand but he twitched it away. “I know how you must feel.”</p><p><br/>“With due respect, Captain, I don’t think you do,” he murmured. “I know I shouldn’t be like this, and yet I can’t stop it. It’s … not natural.”</p><p>Oh, he knew those words, the feelings behind them.<br/>The memories of sitting in his bunk, a man not much older than Tintin, his body still warm from Chester’s skin. The strange sensation of feeling so at war and yet so at peace with himself. He felt like he’d suddenly put on a pair of glasses after years of blindness. That it was a man’s touch, a man’s lips he needed to satiate that burning fire in his core. He’d sat grinning like a fool, one hand flattened against his chest and feeling the thrum of his hammering heart. He felt like shouting it from the top of the deck and hiding himself away for the rest of his life. It was the best and worst feeling he’d felt in his life.</p><p>“Tintin, look at me,” Haddock raised his voice slightly. The boy glanced up at him, his face pale. “When I say, I know, I mean it.” he rolled up the sleeve of his roll-neck and showed him a small tattoo Tintin had never seen before; a wobbling, badly drawn outline of a chestnut leaf, inked into the delicate skin above his elbow.<br/>“A leaf…?” the boy frowned again. “You’re not making sense.”<br/>“From a chestnut tree,” Haddock told him. “You know my old friend Captain Chester? Well, that was his nickname back in the old days.”</p><p><br/>Tintin peered closely at the tattoo and then back at his spot on the floor. Haddock let the record of strings fill the silence, his fingers lingering on the shape. He watched the boy’s face.<br/>He moved from confusion, to realisation, to what looked like relief. He flushed.<br/>“You mean you…?” He didn’t dare to finish the sentence. Haddock nodded sagely.</p><p><br/>“Yes, lad. Believe me when I say, I know. We’re not so different, you and I,” he gave him a good natured smile. Tintin closed his eyes and breathed out, long and shaking. His shoulders sagged a little.<br/>“What happened? With you and Chester? I mean, you’re still friends, aren’t you?” he asked. It was Haddock’s turn to look at the moon pensively.<br/>“He got married,” he said after a moment. “A lovely lass. I was the best man.”<br/>“Oh, I see...” Tintin swallowed. “But you stayed friends?”<br/>“Aye, of course,” Haddock rolled the sleeve of his jumper back down again. He hadn’t talked of this to anyone for a long time. He traced his fingers over the space on his arm. He thought about the small inked fish that was out there in the world, eternal on Chester’s left bicep. “When you truly care for someone, you’ll do anything to keep them.”<br/>Tintin sat up slowly and ran a hand over his face. The music took up the reign of conversation again. Haddock gave him an encouraging smile.<br/>“We have all night to talk if you want to, lad.”</p><p><br/>The younger man fidgeted for a moment. “He… knew how I felt about him...” he said hesitantly. “You remember the last time he came to Moulinsart? We went out into the hills.”<br/>“Aye.” Of course he did – he remembered the stabbing pains in his chest as he watched them leave. Off on an adventure without him. He’d felt like a spare part left out to rust.<br/>“I told him then,” Tintin was speaking very quietly again. “and he was fine about it. But he said he couldn’t ever feel the same.” Haddock watched him.</p><p><br/>“I thought you behaved strangely when you came back,” he said. “I wish I’d asked you.”</p><p><br/>Tintin laughed a little abruptly. “I wouldn’t have told you a thing, you know that,” The boy crossed his legs and played with a loose thread in his trousers. “It was a relief, in a way.”<br/>“A relief?”<br/>“Mm, yes,” he chewed on his lip. “As if it was releasing me, somehow. It took up all my energy to tell him. And suddenly it wasn’t bottled up as much, and I felt like I could deal with it all a little better.”<br/>Haddock’s heart ached for him; he knew the turmoil he must be feeling. The turbulence that seemed to shake his very bones. He wanted to gather him up and tell him he’d never let anyone hurt him for who he loved.</p><p><br/>“You’re allowed to grieve for him,” Haddock said gently. “You’re allowed to feel something about him getting engaged. Even if you don’t feel much for him any more, it’s bloody hard to get over your first love.”<br/>Tintin flushed again and pulled Milou into his lap, playing with him distractedly.</p><p>“It just feels so...” he shook his head slightly. “I feel so wrong. Because I am happy for him, truly. And I want the best for him. I don’t even want to be with him myself, I just… now I know it’s truly over, I feel both this relief and this great... strangeness.”<br/>Haddock reached to fuss the dog’s ears. “You feel strange because now you feel like you’re free?” he offered.<br/>Tintin nodded hesitantly. “Perhaps,” He sat, burying his fingers into Milou’s fur, the dog licking at his hands. Then he looked up at Haddock again. “Did you really love each other? You and Chester.” The older man looked wistful.<br/>“Oh, aye, to desperation,” he said. “But Chester also loved too freely. When the girl fell pregnant, he married her straight away, and tried to be a good man.”<br/>“But what about you?”<br/>“Men fall in love at sea very often. Sometimes by the time they’ve docked again, they’ve fallen out of it,” he murmured. “He just so happened to fall out of love with me.”<br/>They were both leaning forward, staring earnestly at each other. Haddock felt tired, having spoken truths that hadn’t reared their ugly heads in years. Tintin was looking at him intently. He tried to ignore the soft freckles that dusted his cheeks and rounded nose.</p><p><br/>“I’ve definitely fallen out of love with Tchang,” Tintin said. “I suppose I just feel strange about the 'what ifs' there could have been.”<br/>Haddock nodded wordlessly. <em>What if I kissed you now, what if I pushed you out of that chair and showed what it feels like to be properly, truly and fully loved</em>. He almost twitched, forcing the thoughts out of his mind.</p><p><br/>“Do you think you still love Chester?” Tintin asked, barely audible. Haddock felt his heart hammering in his chest. He shook his head slowly.<br/>“Not since the day he left the church with his wife on his arm. It’s how we stayed friends. We both closed it off, pretended it didn’t happen.”<br/>Tintin looked thoughtful again. He pushed himself up out of the chair, and moved over to the window, arms folded and tucked into the folds of the cardigan. Milou leapt back into empty space and settled back down.</p><p>“Sometimes, I think...” he started. Haddock remained seated.</p><p><br/>“What do you think?”</p><p><br/>The younger man bowed his head slightly. “I just find it all so confusing. All these feelings and things swirling around inside me,” he raised his head and furrowed his brow, looking out at the moon. “Perhaps I read too much into things.”</p><p><br/>Haddock’s heart was hammering even louder. He was surprised it wasn’t leaping out of his ribs. He swallowed. The boy looked so wistful, so lost. He could feel himself falling apart with his attempts to push down the desire to pull Tintin to him. He couldn’t think of a word to say. The room seemed frozen.</p><p><br/>“You know,” the boy’s voice was suddenly different. More measured, less tenuous. “The moment Tchang told me up on that hill that he couldn’t love me, I started feeling something else.”<br/>“You did?”<br/>“Mm,” the boy hummed. Haddock could feel the air hanging thickly around them. Was he going to say something, anything, else? He so badly wanted him to say what he wanted to hear.<br/>Tintin stared resolutely outwards. In the window, he caught the eye of the Captain reflected back to him. What was this terrible dance of evasion they seemed to be locked in? Why couldn't he just speak?<br/>He willed himself to live through the nights he’d tossed and turned, images playing through his mind of Haddock’s rough hands touching his neck, his chest, the pale freckled skin of his inner thighs. The more he thought and willed himself to speak, the words seemed to get further from him.</p><p>Telling Tchang was different: he simply asked him to sit down and nervously relayed to him his affections in a straightforward, albeit clumsy, manner. Tchang had smiled at him warmly and reached over to kiss his cheek.<br/>“I am flattered, my friend,” he’d said softly, “But I cannot ever feel the same for you.”<br/>Though it hurt him, Tintin had felt a crushing weight lift from his chest. Tchang had declined him, but also released him. In the following months they’d carried on as usual, exchanging letters, neither mentioning the revelation which Tintin silently thanked him for. Now it was out there instead of rattling round his veins, the hot, blushing schoolboy crush that had so dominated his mind lessened and cooled. He began to steer his thoughts away from Tchang, could focus more on his surroundings. And start feel other things too.<br/>Despite knowing Tchang longer, he’d always known there was something small between he and the Captain too. At first he had revered him with the same affections of a father figure; hopelessly smitten with someone older who would look after him after so many years on his own. But then that too had deepened into something else, an unyielding fondness and calmness that enveloped him whenever the other was around.</p><p>Where Tchang had made him feel flustered and racing, whatever he felt for Haddock was more mellowed, more mature. It crept up into him and filled the hole that Tchang’s gracious refusal had made. He didn’t feel he had to constantly impress Haddock or make himself into someone he wasn’t – wittier, smarter, gentler. He knew a silent understanding existed between them, that the Captain would always laugh at his bad jokes, would throw some attitude back at him rather than shrink away from his occasional abruptness.</p><p>Yes, as he’d been sitting staring out at the night sky, he’d been mourning the end of his first love affair. But he’d also been musing, pondering, if this closing sense of deliverance that came with the news of the engagement meant he could finally begin to make sense of his relationship with the older man. The more gentle, wiser affections he felt for Haddock seemed all the more harder to turn into words.</p><p>Haddock coughed pointedly, breaking the silence. The record had stopped and was beginning to skip and scratch. Tintin broke from his reverie, eager to do something, anything, than keep standing there feeling helpless. As he turned to the gramophone, Haddock silently rose and stepped in his way. He caught his hands in his own and held them gently against his chest. The boy blushed, eyes wild and sparkling. His lips were slightly parted and Haddock could feel his wrists trembling in his grasp. The record kept skipping in the background. The boy laughed self consciously, eyes bright.</p><p>“Are you trying to tell me what I think you are, Captain?” he whispered. He was almost playful. Haddock had never been a master of language. Especially in this compromising position and flustered to high hell. Instead, in a second of steeled nerves, he pulled the boy closer and kissed him once, chastely.<br/>The other inhaled sharply, eyes wide, and so he pulled him back, this time kissing him with greater intensity.</p><p>They broke apart, both flushed and grinning, reeling in opposite directions.<br/>“Great snakes...” Tintin muttered, lifting a hand to his lips. He felt himself tingling all over. Is this what it felt like? To be loved? Milou gave a snuffling noise from his spot on the chair and that made them laugh bashfully again. Haddock wrestled with his hands in front of him, shuffling on the spot.<br/>“Now, I know I’m twice your age, and I’m no pretty Chinese boy,” he started awkwardly. “And I know you think I smoke and drink too much but...” Thundering typhoons, where was he going with this? “I-I’ll never hurt you or… or make you feel like you’re disgusting or strange or wrong-”</p><p>The other had swiftly come over and pressed himself against him. Haddock held his breath, skin breaking out in goosebumps.<br/><br/>Self-consciously, Tintin buried his face into the crook of his neck, his breath tickling the skin. Haddock could feel the warmth of his flushed cheeks against his fluttering pulse. Younger hands roamed upwards, fingers dancing along the strong muscles of Haddock’s back and shoulders. The older man exhaled shakily, moving his arms around to hold him properly.</p><p><br/>“Stop talking,” Tintin whispered. They moved together, clumsily, hands searching each other, slipping under layers of jumper, seeking out hidden scars, faded tattoos, virginal freckle-flecked skin. “Please, just kiss me like that again and we can talk about it later.”<br/>Laughing softly, they fell gracelessly to the floor.</p><p><br/>Milou snuffled again, sleepily turning over in the chair and listened to the sound of the record needle skipping over and over again.</p><p><br/>The moon bore witness through the window pane. All felt right.</p>
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